Totus Vel Nusquam
by Rhadeya
Summary: [Title translated: All or Nothing] Yorgi survived the speedboat crash, and is saved from death by a mysterious woman. As he recovers, he discovers he still has an important part to play in the world...[Please R&R]
1. Contemno Nex

_Disclaimer: Xander, Yorgi and xXx belong to people smarter and more talented than me, I'm just taking them out to play. I do own Oriana tho, and the situations I put her and Yorgi into. I'm doing this for love, not money, so please don't sue me. I'm skint enough already :grin:  
  
Author's notes: Didn't want Yorgi to die in the film so I came up with a way he might have escaped and then this came to mind. Plot bunnies really can be evil sometimes... Latin translations are at the bottom of the page and come from InterTran, so if they're wrong please don't flame :)  
  
Feedback: Always welcomed, constructive critique is adored_

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**_1. Contemno Nex_**

Glancing back over his shoulder, the Czech revolutionist clicked a button on the remote, activating AHAB and sending it speeding towards its destination. Clicking the other button on the small pad, the huge outer door of the launch bay began to lower, ensuring his escape. Shots sounded behind, missing the boat by a wide margin.

"Learn how to shoot, you piece of shit!" Yorgi shouted back at Xander, smirking in triumph. Firing a volley back at the American agent who had killed his brothers, he didn't notice the cliff looming directly ahead of him. He watched in amusement as Xander dropped down onto his stomach, the heavy metal door descending slowly towards him. Bullets rained around him as X fired again, this time hitting their target. A single bullet sliced into his back, tearing through his lung, the impact forcing him onto the floor of the boat. A thin line of blood trickled from his mouth as he suddenly saw the shadow of the cliff above him. He tried to pull himself upright, grabbing the small steering wheel and desperately attempting to steer away from the deadly rocks. The bow of the speedboat hit the rocks, sliding up a few feet and tipping him backwards into the water just as it exploded into a ball of fire. A pool of flames shot out across the water, engulfing the dying Yorgi and making those watching believe he was ripped to pieces by the explosion. 

Pain laced through him, like a thousand needles piercing every inch of his flesh, as wave after wave of fire rolled across the water around him. Instinct took over, forcing him beneath the surface in an attempt to save himself from a painful death within the inferno raging above. He tried to swim, wanting distance between him and the deadly flames, but his limbs ignored his mind's frantic signals to move. As his blood filled lungs began to ache from lack of oxygen, he realised he had only two choices... and both led to death. If he surfaced here so he could try to breathe, he'd die in the fire he could see rippling on the water above him; otherwise he'd drown in a mixture of blood and icy water if he remained submerged, with a body which refused to co-operate and move him out of danger. Darkness began to creep into the edges of his vision as the seconds ticked by, his consciousness slipping away as his brain starved and began to shut down. As the blessed oblivion of death rose up to claim him, he stopped struggling against the inevitable and his body went limp. Floating towards the surface, his body slowly began to move, caught in an invisible undercurrent which dragged him down the river. As his head came above the water, his lungs half filled and he began to breathe once more, keeping him alive. His body remained immersed in the near freezing water, vital organs slowing as he entered a state of suspended animation.

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Several miles downstream, his battered body bumped softly against the river bank and became tangled there, snared in the hardy grasses which survived at the water's edge. Night fell slowly, hiding him from view as the temperature dropped below freezing. As hypothermia set in, his mind fought to wake him from the nightmares around him.

_Flames licked around him, singeing his flesh. Icy cold knives stabbed into his limbs, slicing through muscle and tendon before hitting bone. Darkness surrounded him, calling him name invitingly, begging him to stop fighting and give in to the sweet embrace of death. Hands grasped him, dragging him back towards the fire and the knives. He tried to resist, batting at the hands in a futile attempt to make them stop. _

_"Exsisto securus, extraneus." A woman's voice drifted through the flames, soothing and gentle, her words chasing away the pain. He relaxed, allowing the hands to lift him up, far from the fire and ice, and carry him away into the darkness._

"Sic Nex Addo est adveho," the voice whispered, mirthless laughter rolling quietly around him as Yorgi began to regain consciousness. Struggling back towards reality, the pain returned and he cried out, calling desperately for his dead brothers. A high fever gripped him, making him feel as if molten lava raced through his veins instead of blood. He thrashed around, sure he was still in the river and trying in vain to escape a fiery death. Suddenly, cool hands on his face smothered the fire raging inside him, as a bitter liquid slid down his throat, easing his pain and allowing him to slip into a deep restful sleep. 

"Somnus Nex Addo, somnus," the female voice murmured soothingly. The sounds of the world faded away, and her words followed him down into his dreams...

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Totus Vel Nusquam - All Or Nothing  
Contemno Nex - To Defy Death  
Somnus Nex Addo, somnus - Sleep Death Bringer, sleep  
Exsisto securus, extraneus - Be easy, stranger  
Sic Nex Addo est adveho - So the Death Bringer is come


	2. Nex Addo

**_Disclaimer_**: Xander, Yorgi and xXx belong to people smarter and more talented than me, I'm just taking them out to play. I do own Oriana tho, and the situations I put her and Yorgi into. I'm doing this for love, not money, so please don't sue me. I'm skint enough already :grin:

_**Author's Notes**: Having reviewed the feedback on this story, and having finally gotten some free time (lol), I'm going on with the story. There are a few things from feedback that I would like to reply to... _

_**1.** If Yorgi had been seriously injured, he would not have returned for the rest of the movie, but still survived to possibly recover and return at a later date. _

_**2.** People CAN and DO survive explosions! The reason I was specific about the way Yorgi fell and the way the boat hit the cliffs came from a friend who works with explosives. He helped me to describe how it would have been possible for Yorgi to survive the explosion, albeit very seriously injured and at risk from both the fire on the surface of the water and hypothermia from the temperature of the water itself._

_But enough talk, on with the story :)

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_**_2. Nex Addo_**

_Fire. Ice. The world around him was burning, but frozen at the same time. Flames moved towards him across the ice, like a serpent slithering towards its prey. He was breathing hard, but his breath made no cloud in the frozen air. He could not move, could not escape the flames which grew ever nearer, surrounding him with the promise of a painful death. The sky was a curtain of black velvet, starless, and as empty as the plain upon which he lay. The silhouettes of mountains reared up in the half light around him, like magnificent stallions locked in a battle for supremacy. The fire edged closer, flickering close to his bare feet as he struggled to pull himself upright, away from the danger. A shadow beyond the fire caught his attention and he called out, hoping someone had come to help him. A small patch of fire died down to the barest flicker, and Kolya stepped into the circle which enclosed Yorgi._

"_Kolya, my brother! I thought you had died at the hands of the American..."_

"_I did. I came to ask you why you let it happen? You were supposed to protect me, but instead you let me die. And you have not avenged my death!" Kolya's voice was hollow, as if the words were spoken from a great distance._

"_I will avenge you! AHAB should have done it's work by now, we will all be avenged!" Yorgi promised, his voice firm._

"_No, we will not. The American stopped the weapon. We will forever be held here, unable to rest for we will never be avenged."_

"_NO!!!"_

"_Yes brother. We are all here, and here will we remain until we are avenged. You will join us soon, and we shall spend eternity suffering, without peace..." The words became quieter as Kolya stepped back out of the circle, the fire springing back up where he had been._

"_Kolya, don't leave! I promise you I will avenge you! Kolya... KOLYA!!!" The words were full of longing and fear as Yorgi watched his brother disappear into the darkness, leaving him alone. The fire resumed its implacable march towards him, searing his skin as it finally consumed him...  
  
_**  
The** full moon hung low in the dark night sky, thousands of tiny points of light surrounding it. A small fire cast its light on the rocks surrounding it, shadows dancing across the ground as a breath of wind caused the flames to flicker for a moment. Two figures sat beside the fire, watching a third as he tossed and turned, caught in the grip of a dangerous fever. The young woman turned to the older man beside her, her eyes questioning.

"We must let the fever run its course. There is nothing more we can do for him," he told her, his voice soft.

"But... there must be something we can do..."

"I have removed the bullet from his body, but the fever which grips him is a result of more than his physical wounds. There is nothing more I can for his body, but perhaps you can help his soul struggle."

"I will try, Master. But would it not have been better o let him die?" she asked, her voice muted and her eyes downcast.

"No, he must live!" The older man admonished her. "His fate will affect us all, and we must allow him to fulfil his fate."

"I understand, Master."

"Be easy, daughter," he assured her. Reaching out, he placed his hand beneath her chin and gently forced her to raise her head and look at him. "We all have a part to play in this game, my wilful child. In time, you _will_ understand the part you must play, even though you may not want to..."

"I will do as you say, and help the Death Bringer in any way I can," she promised. As soon as the words passed her lips, the woman felt a strange shiver run down her spine. The darkness seemed to close in on her and _she felt a change in the air; the smell of summer surrounded her and the air held a hint of warmth. She looked up and saw the stars were different, arranged in the summer configuration. A sigh caused her to tear her gaze from the sky and she saw the Death Bringer laying beside her, fully healed, and as naked as she was. He reached out to gently caress her, and she shied away from the touch_, finding herself once more in the mountains with her master and the injured stranger.

"You _will_ understand, and you _will_ submit to the part you _must_ play..." The old man murmured, watching her closely. Suddenly he smiled, and the chill in her bones vanished; the memory of what she had just seen slipping away, as a dream dissolves once the dreamer awakens. "Watch over him, Rosheen, and do not fear. He will not harm you..." A secretive smile tugged at his lips as he watched his charge, knowing what her vision had shown her.

"I will, Corshan. I will do all in my power to ease his suffering until the fever breaks."

"Good. I will return on the morrow to see how he is doing. Good night, my wild daughter," he said, laying a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Good night, Master." She watched him leave, fading into the darkness as a shadow vanishes in the light. Smiling to herself, she turned back to her charge. His body was soaked with sweat, as the fever burned within him, and she knelt beside him, laying a cold, damp cloth to his brow. He stirred beneath her touch and slowly opened his eyes, his gaze direct though his eyes shone with the fever.

"Exsisto securus, Nex Addo," she murmured, wiping the sweat from his face.

"Who are you? I don't understand..." His voice was hoarse from the hot fumes he had inhaled during the accident.

"Rest. I here to help. Rest," she told him in broken English. She knew the language well, but she was unused to speaking it, and so her words were stilted.

"Who are you?" Yorgi asked again.

"A friend. Rest, let fever leave."

"What is your name?"

"My name Rosheen. Rest now," she murmured, supporting his head as she lifted a small wooden cup to his lips and watched him drink. His eyes began to close almost immediately as the powerful herbs took effect, sinking him back into sleep as the fever raged inside. Gently covering him with a second thick blanket, she pulled her woollen cloak around her more tightly and sat beside him, beginning her vigil over the Death Bringer...

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_  
OK, short chapter I know, but it's kinda setting the scene lol_

_**Exsisto securus, Nex Addo - Rest Easy, Death Bringer**_


	3. Non Dignitas Victus

_**Disclaimer**: Still own nothing, especially not my sanity lol_

_**Author's Notes**: On a roll with this one at the moment :) Thought that maybe it was about time we found out a little more about Rosheen, and the history between her and Yorgi ;-)

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**_3. Non Dignitas Victus?_**

Rosheen sat quietly beside Yorgi, watching him closely as the fever continued its destructive reign within his body. The medicine she had given him would help combat the fever, but he did not have the spirit to win the battle being fought within him, he would surely die. As she watched him struggle with forces she knew were of his own making, her attention wandered and her mind focused on the vision she had experienced. She saw again the summer night sky, felt again the warmth of the gentle breeze and Yorgi's hand on her bare skin. She fought the urge to shy away from the unwelcome touch, but allowed the vision to play out to its conclusion. When the world once more came back into focus, she shivered against the meaning of the things she had seen. Was she to become the play thing of the Death Bringer? Would she be forced to submit to him, to do whatever he wanted her to? She could not deny that he was a handsome man, attractive in more than just unusual looks, but the thought of having to submit to him was abhorrent to her.

  
She had watched him closely for several years, hidden in the shadows, and she had come to realise how dangerous he was. He had seen her once, when she had grown careless and come out of the shadows. She had gone to one of his clubs, eager to fulfil her part in the greater game, and he had seen her then. On the dance floor, surrounded by strangers who had no knowledge of her mission, she had danced as she had often done with her clan. A short black silk dress, backless and low cut at the front, had clung to her slender figure as she had lost herself in the music; her movements were strange, yet oddly compelling, to those around her. Her blood had sung as she moved, a wild free spirit performing an ancient dance, which had inevitably drawn attention. Some of the clubbers around her had stopped dancing, drawing back to watch her alluring dance, and parting the way to allow the club's owner through the throng. She clearly remembered the tall, dark haired stranger as he had joined her dance, moving as fluently as she herself did, matching her steps perfectly. The feel of his hand on her lower back seared through her, and his very presence was overwhelming as he moved behind her, pressing his body to hers. At that moment, locked in his tender embrace as his lips brushed her neck, she had lost herself in him and had come close to failing her mission. It was only when the music stopped that she had been able to break free of his spell and make her escape. Once she stepped out of the club, the cold air of the winter night had been like a slap in the face, stinging her eyes and burning her lungs. She had made her way back into the mountains, freezing and guilt-ridden over her mistake.

  
Corshan had found her, as dawn broke, half dead from the cold and numb from the guilt and shame she felt. She had become his pupil that day, learning from him of the game they were part of, the whim of the fates and the importance of the man she had been drawn to. And never again had he seen her watching him, never known of her presence as she waited for him to fulfil his fate. It had been Corshan's suggestion that had led to Yelenna being sent to infiltrate Yorgi's operation. Rosheen had felt relieved when Yelenna appeared on the scene, and Yorig's attention was diverted. His efforts to track her down and reveal her identity had placed her in great danger, as well as risking everything they had fought for. Corshan had told her that one day she would know the Death Bringer, but that the time for their meeting had not yet arrived. He had given her no details as to how she would know the Death Bringer, only that it would play an important part in the greater game.

  
But now, in the aftermath of her vision, Rosheen felt the first stirrings of fear about the role she would play. Would she be strong enough to fulfil her part, to do what was required of her? Would she have to submit to Yorgi, the Bringer of Death, and surrender herself? What would be requested of her? Would she be able to become another of his sexual play things, after all these years of being in the shadows? The very thought of being at the mercy of a man who used women to satisfy his own carnal desires, with no thought to his partners, made her skin crawl. While she found him attractive, becoming another nameless whore in his bed was something she could not, and would not, allow herself to become.

  
A pained moan, sounding unnaturally loud in the silence of the night, pulled her from her musing and she looked down at the fevered man beside her. He had regained consciousness once again, and looked at her with curiosity, and a hint of a hunger she could not bear to satisfy.

"Rosheen..."

"Rest, sleep," she encouraged, her voice soft. His scrutiny was so direct that she found herself unable to break eye contact, and it took all her will to keep her face impassive.

"I know you..."

"No, we have not met before today," she lied, her English improving as she forced herself to use the language.

"I can see past your lies, Shadow Dancer," he chided gently, a smile pulling at his lips as he watched her. The slight reddening of her cheeks, when she heard that name, gave her away and he relaxed back against the blanket beneath him. "I spent years looking for you, but all I found was rumours and myths. I had despaired that you were not real, but now you are here..."

"Your body is consumed by fever. What makes you think I am not of your imagination?"

"No, you are real. When I saw you at the club that night, I thought perhaps that I could finally make you mine, as I had been unable to do before..."

"Before? We had not met before that night..."

"No, we had not met, but I had seen you before. During the war, when my brothers and I were camped in an abandoned village, I saw you," he explained, pausing for a moment as a spasm of coughing racked his body. "I remember the moon was full, and the sky clear of clouds. I left my brothers sleeping and wandered into the woods which bordered the village. I don't know why I went there, but I was approaching a clearing when I saw you. You were at the heart of the clearing, bathed in moonlight. You wore a simple white dress and were barefoot, and you were dancing..."

"I remember the night of which you speak. It was the first night I had been allowed to wander alone, for my clan believed the area deserted of soldiers. But I did not know you saw me..." she confessed, startled by his revelation.

"At first, I believed you were a spirit. I thought that perhaps I had died and you had come to take my soul from this war ravaged land. That was a comforting thing; in a world where my life was not worth living, the thought of dying and being carried away by a spirit as beautiful as you was worth losing the life I no longer cared for. Then, as I watched you, I realised you were more than a spirit." He smiled at the memory, and the feelings it still stirred in him. "I was ready to enter the clearing and speak to you, but you left before I could summon the courage. When I saw you at the club, I knew I could not make that mistake again. I forced back my fear and joined you in the dance, but you left me again..." his tone was laced with bitterness as he held her gaze, his eyes searching hers for something she could not let him see.

"I'm sorry. I could not stay, I had important things to do that night..."

"And every day since then?" Again, his tone told her of his anger and bitterness.

"Sleep. You must purge the fever from you. We will talk more when you are well again," she promised. The exchange had taken much of his energy reserves, and weakened him greatly. He did not fight her suggestion this time, but his lips held a hint of a smile as he drifted off to sleep once more.

  
Continuing her vigil over the man who was know to her as Nex Addo, the Death Bringer, Rosheen wondered at that hint of a smile. The fact that he had seen her, long before she had been assigned to watch him, was troubling. What had he discovered in his search for her? What information had the rumours given him? Had he inadvertently been given an insight, however brief, into who and what she was? Or perhaps he had learned something of his own role in the greater game? The conversation had posed more questions than it had answered, for both of them...

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_Hmmm, that poses more questions than it answers, doesn't it? If you'd like me to continue, please review :)_

_**Non Dignitas Victus? – Not worth living?**_


End file.
